


Like a, Guardian Angel?

by Made



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-04 04:48:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10983690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Made/pseuds/Made
Summary: So, apparently Bastian is the reincarnation of Heimdall.





	Like a, Guardian Angel?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kopfkino](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kopfkino/gifts), [andromedomai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/andromedomai/gifts), [tmrs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tmrs/gifts).



 

Bastian had been scrubbing his counter until his muscle started to burn. He kept the frenetic motion going, making circles with the dishtowel on his hand, wiping water that was no longer here. The wood was shining, he could now see his reflection on it. He could have deliberately spilled some coffee over to keep cleaning it. His reflection was not what he was seeking to see. He went on, focusing his eyes on his tensed hand, his knuckles white and blue veins out looking for a cooler temperature that was not to be find in the boiling body. His annoyance level rose as he acknowledged that he was attempting to erase stains that were far from being the ones no longer on the large wooden counter.

Two months have passed since his uncle Philipp, owner of the coffee shop, told him to keep an eye on it for “a week or two” before he left him with an ethereal kiss on the front head and keys. Just like that. Just like when Bastian was a kid, his shaky body grasped around the older man’s arm begging him for company. Philipp would tell him, with his soft voice and vast look that had stolen its shades to a heavy sky about to split, to close his eyes and open them once the sun forces him to, he would be back by then. Just like that. Bastian felt the exact same way. His uncle always got away too easily, but he would also always, each and every single time, come back around like the promise of another day he was.

So why not this time?

Why couldn’t he scratch away the itching feeling that something unwished had happened? Why couldn’t he just erase this red stain of paint that had dropped on the plan of the occurrences of his life? No matter how hard he tried to make things clear, they ended up blurry, the stains wouldn’t go, they just kept accumulating.

 

He stopped, it was not his own doing. A firm, yet so soft, hand had found his, now resting above it. Bastian pressed his lips, he had been caught.

“It’s clean, boss, one could be eating on it.” Holger smiled at him watching him curiously above his tiny rectangular glasses. There was nothing to do when receiving a smile from him except feeling warm inside. That’s what Bastian did, a pleasant heat under his ribcage replacing the paralyzing fever of the doubt.

“Don’t you dare…” Bastian started as Holger froze his hand losing its grip over his boss one. “Calling me boss ever again Holger, understood?”

Holger shook his head vigorously, the most recent employee was incredibly gullible always falling into the other traps. He didn’t deserve it since his lack of deviousness made him unable to get a revenge. He was instead always looking after everyone’s peace of mind.

“What can I do to help?”

 

Bastian knew he was not going to take “nothing” for an answer so he asked him to close. He would never let someone else do his job but it seemed like enough of an exceptional situation. He took his wallet and keys before fixing his cap on his head and got out. He had to get down the street to reach the parking lot. His house was situated fifteen minutes away out of the buzz of the city, closing the door of it behind him at the end of each day always felt like he was letting the entire world behind before he had to get back into it at six in the morning. Today, especially more than the other ones, he couldn’t wait to get there. He hurried to the wide parking lot fairly lighten at night. He was walking to the third line where his Jeep is always parked but suddenly stopped blinded by the headlight of a car that was about to plough into him. He was about to be hit.

 

He sees his birthday cake and its seven candles crashing to the floor as his father’s punch made Philipp collapse into the table where it was put. He sees the blood his uncle spit on the vanilla cream. The cheap bottle of Whiskey thrown flying across the living room as the man manages to avoid it. Him running to his dad. The two bodies on the ground. The struggle. The mouths torn by insults. His dad standing up. Leaving. The door left open. Philipp’s body moving up and down, panting. Bastian sees the last time he met his dad.

 

 

 

He is pushed to the ground.

 

The next thing he sees is the car driving away. He blinks, curses, pants, and gets back to his feet with difficulty. Tears are running down his cheeks, his heart beats too fast and his head is spinning. He surprisingly isn’t hurt at all but he is struck. Far in his memories was the last time he found himself in a situation that got him in such a state. He is finally seeing the person that the car hit instead of him and they are lying unconscious a few meters away. He needs to get there. He needs to. He takes a deep breath and slaps his cheek hard one time. He feels much more in control and gets to the body.

It’s a man that must be as old as  wearing only bright red shorts, and white sneakers. It was hot outside but not enough to be going around like that. Bastian places two fingers on his neck at the strategic point and sighed. Nothing was giving away that he got hit, it could be thought that he just happened to be laying in the middle of a parking lot. Bastian reached for his phone in his pocket, his now broken screen was thankfully still working, and called an ambulance.

 

 

 

At the hospital Bastian got stitches on his left arcade which had opened without him noticing. They didn’t want to believe that the other man got hit by a car as his body was totally intact. Bastian hated to have his statements doubted as he made a serious point not to ever lie, ever. He decided to keep quiet until the man woke up and could speak for himself. When they began to ask him what drug they took as if it was the only explanation they could find for someone being unconscious that way, Bastian went to hide into his savior room knowing that they won’t be looking for him there as he didn’t actually have the right to be there.

He closed the door behind him and walked around the bed to go sit next to it not even close to manage to get his eyes off of the man. He remained here for a while wondering what was wrong with his life but strangely not feeling the overwhelming wet usually sitting on his chest.

 

The man finally moved, his eyelids started shivering like a leaf ready to be taken by the wind, he was waking up. When Bastian finally got to see his eyes he thought he was blind for that they were the clearest shade of blue. But then the two pearls actually posed on him and weren’t only looking at him but right into him.

“Bastian.” he whispered an existential relief in his voice.

Bastian jumped on his feet. “Jesus Christ, you know my name?!”

“I do.” He answered moving out of bed with sweeping gestures. “I was born doing so, Bastian, we better go.” As Bastian was ready to do anything but follow him he added, “I’m Lukas and we, need to go.” with an urgency that could not be bitten by Bastian’s consternation.

They walked out of the hospital as if no one was able to see them, Bastian walking behind Lukas focused on his back. He could see from there, from the movement of his muscles, the way he walked that he was far from being tensed. He had something marked on his skin, from a shoulder to the other, it wasn’t a tattoo it seemed... branded? It was in a special alphabet, the kind which is engraved down on Greek statue, Bastian had no idea what it meant be he could swear it was calling him.

It’ wasn’t until  they reached Bastian’s jeep which Lukas somehow knew the position of that he turned around, finally facing Bastian. He had a smile of a rare genuineness, an incredibly warm expression and an attractiveness that Bastian couldn’t ignore, that he wasn’t ignoring, but, he had matters to discuss.

“Who…”

 

He can’t finish his question his month staying open in disbelief. A white wolf just appeared behind Lukas and was slowly walking toward him. Bastian had never seen one before but was pretty sure this one was unnecessarily huge as his back was as high as Lukas’ belly. They semed to know each other as Lukas passed a hand over his white fur before the wolf walked past him. Bastian was the one he wanted to see, which Bastian understood but his legs wouldn’t move, he couldn’t take a step back. He should be freaking out but instead he did something utterly unusual, he trust himself and figured there was a good reason why he didn’t run away. And there actually was. The wolf stopped right in front of him and makeed a slow movement that at first Bastian thought to be a stretching but then he realized the wolf is taking a bow.

“Wow…” He laughs in surprise looking at the outrageously elegant wolf and at his equally warm master back and forth.

Bastian questioned Lukas with a look pointing at the animal unable to talk and Lukas gave him an encouraging nod. So he kneeled down slowly moving a hand toward the animal’s head who came find the touch before Bastian was over hesitating. Bastian caresses the incredibly soft fur for a good while thinking about absolutely nothing else. He ended up putting a hand under the wolf’s mouth making him look up. He eyes are made out of the exact same pacify blue as Lukas’ ones. He looked up at the man reminding him but he doesn’t know what to ask anymore. So Lukas goes first.

“Do you remember him?”

“The wolf? No, why? Should I?”

“Because it’s Gulltopp, your mount.” Lukas explains kneeling down next to them putting a hand on Gulltopp’s back. “I kept him with me until you would need him, he missed you.”

“You think I need to ride a wolf? Is this even a thing?”

“It’s a horse, he just appears as a wolf here, plus it doesn’t work like that, you really don’t remember anything?” No matter the question he is asking he still looks calm and a smile still finds a way on his face.

“What am I supposed to remember? Who are you even? Since when do I have a horse? How are still alive? Why do you have my name tattooed on your back?!” Bastian stops shook by what he just said.

“So you do remember?” Lukas asks a light of hope in his eyes.

“I don’t, I, it just called me, it was calling me so I figure it was written Bastian, I don’t know.”

“It’s your name indeed, but it’s not Bastian, look closer.”

Lukas stood up and Bastian mirrored his action not sure he wanted to do what he was about to. Lukas shows him his back again, this time he wasn’t moving though, and he was closer, so close that he wasn’t here anymore. His back was just a piece of paper with a name on it. Bastian moved his shaky hand toward it, slowly, he loosely retraces the letters, writing them, spelling them. He took a step back, unstable, saying it out loud.

“Heimdall...”

Lukas turned around to face him giving him the same sign of politeness as Gulltoop. “Pleased to see you again.”

“So if I’m Heimdall, who does that make you?”

“That makes me an angel created by Odin, Frigg and the elves to watch over you.”

“Ok, cool, well thank you for saving my life...”

“I was just doing my duty.”

“I bet you were, do you need me to drive you home or anywhere?”

“That isn’t necessary, no.”

“Ok, I will go home then.” Bastian points at his car as if it were possible to miss it and forces a smile.

He goes in, starts it, and drives away. It didn’t matter where he was going because he was obviously going to wake up from that absurd dream.

Obviously.

 


End file.
